Paris Changed Them Will Berlin, too?
by ValentineRose28
Summary: No one knows exactly what happened in Paris. And no one will ever know what happens in Berlin, either. They're different people when they are away by themselves. They let their guard down. Tony comforts Ziva after she has a nightmare. Playful banter, but also some seriousness mixed in. Fluff, a teeny tiny bit of OCC, but nothing major.


**A/N First time trying an NCIS fanfiction. Sorry for any OCCness in advance! I haven't quite gotten the hang of writing these characters yet. **

**This is pretty much just fluff, and what I kind of want to happen in Berlin. These aren't my exact thoughts, this is just where my plot bunny took me. **

**DISCLAIMER: IF I OWNED NCIS, TONY AND ZIVA WOULD HAVE BEEN GOING AT IT LIKE BUNNIES FROM SEASON THREE. SO, THERE YOU GO. **

**Paris Changed **

Ziva awakes with a start, her heart thumping into action. A glance at the alarm clock to her left tells her it's only three in the morning; she has to wait at least two more hours before she can get up without worrying Tony.

And speaking of the oversized child- he's still sleeping on the couch, his thin sheet hanging precariously from his body. It's a wonder she got any sleep at all. Strange flashbacks of their undercover operation from years ago pop into her head, and she smiles slightly at his soft breathing. At least he isn't snoring this time. She rubs a hand over her eyes and tries to calm her breathing.

Racking her brain, she tries to remember the reason for her abrupt awakening. It hits her then; she was having a nightmare of some kind. There was a flash, a loud noise, and then a blinding red glow. But details other than those, she could not remember.

"Ziva?" she hears, followed by a groan as her partner moves into a slightly upright position. He stands up and moves to the bed, his tall form blocking what little moonlight came in through the balcony window.

"Yes?" Ziva whispered. The edge of the mattress dipped as he sat down next to her.

"I heard you mumbling in your sleep. Are you alright?"

"I am fine, Tony. Go back to sleep."

"I never was asleep." He chuckles slightly, making the bed tremble.

"That would explain the lack of snoring," Ziva mumbles, rolling away from him and giving him her back.

"No," he replies. "It would explain the reason I never got to sleep. As we've established in the past, _you_ snore like a sailor."

"Is there a point to this?" She smothers a yawn and pulls the sheet up over her shoulders. She feels cold all of a sudden.

"No, I'm sorry. I'll let you sleep." Tony brushes the hair off her forehead and gets up, then moves quietly back to the couch. His absence amplifies the chill in her bones, and his touch simultaneously sent heat curling over her temples.

"I am scared, Tony." The words are barely a whisper scraping her throat.

Her admitting weakness surprises the both of them.

"I am scared that we will not find Bodnar. And I am scared that we will, as well."

"You're Ziva David. You're my Ninja. You don't _get_ scared." There is joking in his voice, but also a bit of fear as well.

"What if…" She pauses to collect her thoughts, since the words do not come easily. "What if I find him and completely lose myself? What if I go into a rage and-" Her words fall like lead weights in the silence between them.

The springs in the couch groan as Tony rolls off them again. "You have every right to be mad." His voice is right in front of her face, his breath fanning over her cheeks. "You lost your father for no reason."

A foreign tightness squeezes Ziva's chest, and it is several moment before she understands what it is- she feels like she needs to cry. But Ziva David does not cry at the drop of a hat. Crying shows weakness. Weakness is dangerous. If you are weak, then people can hurt you. She learned that lesson the hard way, many years ago in her Mossad days.

"You know, I could stay over here with you if you want? That couch is killing my back…and I've been told I am an excellent cuddler." His tone is hesitant instead of flirty, as is his usual, and if she could see him, Ziva knows there would be something dark in his eyes. An expression she never could decipher.

Something about this man frightened her- though she'd never admit that to him or anyone else. She could barely admit it to herself. It was something about the way he would look at her, when he thought no one else could see them. As if he were trying to read her mind or something of the sort. She felt vulnerable around him, and that was definitely not a feeling she enjoyed.

"You know what, never mind. I shouldn't have said anything. I crossed the line, and I'm sorry."

"No." She takes a shuddering breath. "Stay." Her hand catches his just before he leaves.

The words barely leave her mouth before she feels his weight shift the other side of the bed.

"I am having the weirdest Paris flashbacks," Tony mumbles. Ziva presses her cheek into the pillow and sighs, letting her eyes close.

"Paris." Ziva shakes her head. "Paris was fun."

Her eyes open to find his face just inches from hers. "I know." His green eyes glint in the dim glow from the moon. "We'll have to talk more about it one day. Then I can cross number nineteen off my bucket list." He winks, and her stomach flips a little.

The urge to lean in and kiss him is great, but Ziva settles for reaching under the covers and grabbing his hand. Her fingers are cold, but his warm them right up.

"Shall we agree to tell everyone you slept on the couch?"

Ziva can make out his white teeth flashing in the moonlight. "At least we will be on the same page this time."

A warm laugh rises from her throat, and it strikes her that the remaining fear left over from her nightmare has left her completely. He pulls her closer, and she can smell soap from his shower still lingering on her skin. She is no longer cold, and her exhaustion has creeped back up on her. Her jaw pops with a huge yawn, and Tony laughs quietly.

"You're safe here with me, Zi. No nightmares when I'm around."

"How did you know that I had a nightmare?"

"I recognize the signs."

Ziva thinks back to the night spent in his apartment, when he had pulled her from a bad dream by gripping her wrist. "I suppose that is true."

"I won't anyone hurt you." His grip on her hand tightens. "At lo levad."

"I know." She smiles into her pillow, holding her tears in check with much difficulty.

And with that, Ziva drifts back to sleep.

The next time Ziva wakes up, a soft light is streaming in through the balcony window across her face. She is warm and surprisingly calm; she has been used to waking in a panic over the last couple of months.

"I think your snoring has gotten worse," Tony says in her ear. His warm arm is wrapped around her waist; Ziva distinctly remembers _not_ falling asleep that way. She stiffens slightly, before rolling her eyes and relaxing against him.

"We should probably get up now. I'm sure Gibbs will want us to get some actual work done before going to the bar tonight for our stake out."

"We can tell Gibbs we were jet lagged and slept in. It _is_ only seven."

The bed is warm and Ziva can't make herself argue or get out of it, so she settles herself further into the covers and sighs. "Fine. But only a bit longer."

She wants to savor this moment. As soon as they get back home, it will be back to carefully drawn lines and firmly built walls between the two of them. Paris changed them, though. Will Berlin, too?

"Oh, and Tony?"

"Hmm?" Ziva feels him smile into her shoulder.

"That better be your knee."

**A/N Well, you all know what happens to boys in the mornings ;) I am slightly proud of myself for slipping in Under Covers AND Jet Lag references in there. (I even said 'under [the] covers' and 'jet lagged' at one point :D) **

**Valentine**


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